now shelved away, forgotten
Won't you pick it up, turns its pages
and take a look?
I must warn you for it is hard reading
It's the story of a fool's journey
to understanding the path of intimacy
devoid of any feeling
The heroine stumbles;
emotions overwhelm her
and she often crumbles
Though many obstacles overcome
and many battles she has won
she still walks the path alone
She's a paradox and a riddle
prone to extremes, and never the middle
An enigma very few understood
To herself, a stranger she often forsook
And so this book sat on the shelf
that I had long forgotten
until the day you knocked upon my door
and asked me for asylum
You came inside and stayed a while
We laughed, we played
and made each other smile
Then something strange did happen
and I remembered the dusty shelf
where the book had been forgotten
I picked it up, perused its pages
It seems I had not read this book in ages
So I brought it to you
and hoped you would read it
Perhaps together we'd discover
What I had always been missing
But then you turned away from me
and simply said: "Sorry sweetheart,
I don't like to read."
Copyright 2007 Beatriz Oliver